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Friday, 29 November 2013

November Flash - Day 12

Since I was the only one participating in the November +Flash Fiction Project and that's, well, not very nice for a group project, they stopped posting pictures at this time (presumable until NaNo is over). I'd still like to continue with this, though, since I'm already in my groove. So, it's on you now.I don't like choosing my own prompts, that doesn't feel right, and therefore I'm asking YOU, anyone who would like, to send me, or comment with, or whatever else you can think of, images you'd like me to use. It can be anything at all, I'm learning not to be picky.
I'm going to work through them chronologically, because I get into difficulties if I see more than one image at the same time, but you are still welcome to send new pictures!Now, get me writing, folks! And let me know whether or not you want to be mentioned as the suggester of the picture. And please don't forget to include attribution links.Let the fun continue! Here is the prompt for November 12, from Sripriya - colleague, photographer and lover of chocolate (and she's also doing a 365 photo project):

A sudden gust of wind catches the twenty dollar note and blows it right out of its owner's pocket. It tumbles through the air, higher and lower and higher again, until, with an expert jump, it is caught by a young man with neat hair, brand name clothes and an eager face. He runs to catch up with the money's white-haired, grey-bearded owner.

"Sir! Excuse me, sir."

"Yes, what is it?"

"This, sir. You lost this. The wind stole it right out of your pocket." He presents him with the twenty dollar note.

The old man hesitates, checks the back pocket of his trousers, gives a sad sigh and says: "Keep it, it is yours now. You see, this is a lucky note and it has decided that you'll need it more than I. Take good care of it, and you'll always have money in your wallet."

The harsh sound of the alarm clock tore Ben from his dreams. He was in his late forties and had been unemployed for almost a year now. Nevertheless, he got up early every morning to go job hunting.

He climbed out of bed and shuffled towards the plastic mould that the owner of the flat called a bathroom. It was the only thing that was separated by a door from his one-room apartment; the kitchenette was in the corner opposite, while his desk and a small TV were across the floor from the bed/sofa.

Ben would never admit this in company, but he was relieved that his wife had taken the kids and left before it had come to this. From what she earned she could rent a nice three-room apartment and provide for them better than he could at the moment. Additionally, he didn't want his kids to see him like this; he wouldn't be able to hide his growing depression if they saw him every day.

He got out of the shower and checked the not-too-smelly pile of clothes. With a pang of anxiety he remembered the job interview he had tomorrow. He would have to spend some money on the cleaning, but he had nothing left...

The framed twenty dollar note above the bed caught his attention. The previous owner had told him it would bring him luck if he kept it safe, but Ben couldn't remember any luck to which it could have contributed.

With a sigh of resignation, he took the frame off the wall and removed the money. Then he packed some clothes and made his way to the laundromat.

Putting the change from the twenty dollar note in his wallet, Ben settled down to wait for his laundry, but a few minutes showed that he didn't have the patience. He took out his wallet again to count the money he had left, hoping to buy some groceries and a newspaper to pass the time.

The twenty dollar note was still there. Ben stared.

"Excuse me," he called to the employee, "I gave you a twenty dollar note, didn't I?"

"Why, didn't I give you the right change? You have to bring that up right away, you know, now it's too late."

"No, no, sorry, everything's fine. It just seems that I've had more money with me than I thought."

Taking another look at the twenty dollars, Ben didn't notice the green-eyed glances of the other customers. He closed his wallet and went out shopping.

An hour later he returned with a bag full of food, a brand new newspaper and - as a treat - a new, if cheap, razor to take care of his sparse beard tomorrow.

Settling down with the paper, Ben waited for his laundry to finish, not daring to take another look at his now almost empty wallet. For this, he waited until he got home.